Staunch
by Six
Summary: Ken and Davis visit the flea market, a stone fountain in the park, and take pictures! Kensuke fun for everyone.
1. Pictures on the Wall

Hmm... how do I describe this fic? It's Kensuke, kinda fluffy, mostly pointless. It was going to have plot at some point in time. 

Staunch  
By Six 

They had always lived together in the lofty apartment. Davis waited tables during the day, often taking an additional shift when he wanted the extra cash, and was forever taking pictures to adorn the once solid white walls. There were pictures of them both. Standing happily and holding hands in front of buildings or on busy street-sides, they were together whenever they could be. Davis loved to display their happy memories and joyful times all over their walls. When friends stopped by, they marveled at the moments caught in time: the couple's perfect bliss captured in the small wooden frames from which they could almost share a bit of the heaven.

The redhead developed a new roll of film at least once a week. When he got home with the envelope of pictures, hair ravaged from the wind, but eyes bright and cheerful, the pair would spread them out on the table, separating them into piles from which they would choose their favorites to frame or make collages from. Oftentimes they spent several hours reliving their lives through the images, playing back everything that happened and they felt: the joy, the laughter, the overall good feeling that they got from being with one another. Davis would hold Ken close, reveling in the fleeting sensations until the next day came, the magic of the pictures having worn in a bit, and a new workday started.

Ken had an important job in a large, mirror-windowed, high-rise office building. He wore expensive black suits with colorful silk ties and worked hard five days a week. His cellphone rang all day long and he typed on his laptop with speed and precision earned from years of practice. Ken was busy from nine to five and frequently even later than that. Davis hated that job.

Saturdays were different. They were a day when neither of the pair worked and they could lie around in their white-sheeted bed together all day, watching the large screen television and kissing during commercial breaks. Most Saturdays were spent in bed until late afternoon, Ken sleeping off the exhausting workweek and Davis just liking to sleep and cuddle up next to his boyfriend. Eventually Davis would pull himself away from the Egyptian cotton sheets and the warm body next to his and into one of the many pieces of leather furniture, preferably one near the bed so he could watch Ken in the paradise of sleep. Sometimes he took pictures. Ones taken on lazy Saturdays were put in the plain black photo album in the drawer of his oak nightstand with the Tiffany lamp on top. He was the only one that ever saw those special pictures and they meant the world to him. When he was lonely or sad, the pictures of Ken that were hidden in the thin pages made him feel like nothing else mattered. He just needed Ken and the world was right.

"Davis? What are you doing?" asked Ken, blinking in the early afternoon light at the silhouette situated in a comfortable looking chaise lounge not far from the king-sized poster bed.

Davis smiled, "Watching you."

Ken smiled, too.

~*~*~*~

I was thinking of making this into a series (actually that was what I was going to do all along), but I thought I would submit it first and see what people think of the first part. So what do you think... Should I write the next part? 


	2. Saturday Afternoon

First off I would like to say that having your phoneline cut for one day can really piss you off... having it happen again will drive you insane. I'd like to thank my older brother and his Dreamcast for being there in my time of need. ; ) I'd also like to thank Moonstorm for reading this for me and scaring me into thinking my vocabulary was screwy. Keep reaching for the rainbow! 

Random, pointless Kensuke fluff abounds ahead as Davis and Ken visit a bazaar and a stone fountain in the park. 

Saturday Afternoon  
By Six 

On Saturdays the streets were always crowded, filled with the hustle and bustle of city life. Vendors set out their wares on vividly colored patches of fabric and sturdy little stilted tables for public viewing and purchasing. Davis thrilled in dragging a slightly less enthusiastic Ken down the vivaciously hectic streets to search for unique bargains and to marvel at the visual feast.

Sometimes he took pictures of interesting or out of the ordinary people selling things, or Ken bending down to get a closer inspection of the stamp on a piece of pottery. He even managed to get a Jamaican man with long, dark dreadlocks and a forty-year-old woman with a poodle who walked by to take a few shots of them together.

Davis would stop from time to time, childishly jumping for joy, insisting that they purchase a pair of white porcelain teacups with flowers down the handle or a lumpy yet supple and soft orange handmade sweater that he found on sale. Ken would remind him that they could buy those things in mall downtown where they would be of better quality, but they always bought it anyways, Ken reaching for his black leather tri-fold wallet that they had bought last month while Davis clung gleefully to his other arm wearing a vibrant smile that lit up Ken's day. 

When they had had their fill of the fiercely tinted mats and miscellany of the fête, they would leave, usually with a few bags containing picture frames and numerous other trinkets they had deemed must have, and head towards someplace to sit down and rest their weary feet. A great stone fountain with no particular shape or design was a much-loved spot of theirs.

On that fountain, the sun shone through the leaves making intricate patterns in the rippling water as it lapped at the stones. Davis dipped his hand into the glistening water, running them trough the cool liquid and letting it slip through his fingers in little waves and rivets. Children ran by, giggling and playing a game of tag, thoroughly taking pleasure in the cheerful summer day.

"Hungry?" asked Ken, watching the hypnotic motion of Davis swishing his hand back and forth in the water. Davis looked up questioningly.

"There's a little diner over here that serves breakfast all day long and I know how much you like pancakes" Ken offered, standing up from the edge of the fountain where he had been sitting.

"Pancakes?" asked Davis in a small voice, his eyes widening with hope as he stared up at Ken.

"Pancakes." Ken confirmed, reaching for Davis's wet hand. The redhead took the opportunity to snap another picture, catching the perfect look in Ken's violet eyes. After an initial moment of surprise, Ken's pale hand grasped Davis's tanned one as he pulled him up, and the pair walked hand in hand up the road to the small little diner at the corner where they served pancakes all day and didn't think anything of two guys holding each other's hands.

~*~*~*~

What do you think... am I worthy of going on? Do you like it... do you hate it? Do you want to wish me a happy birthday six days early? 


End file.
